We are organising a tour to India in October this year.

We’re calling it the Mother Ganga Tour.

It will be two weeks, visiting Delhi, the Taj Mahal, Rishikesh and Haridwar on the Ganges, the Dalai Lama Temple up in the far north in Dharamsala, and then finishing off in Mumbai.

In Mumbai we’ll take part in the incredible Ganpati Festival celebrations – where millions of people take their gigantic statues of the elephant God Ganesha down to the sea, where they immerse them in the waters.

It’s an amazing spectacle.

This is not a walking tour, although there are some wonderful walks around Rishikesh and Dharamsala. It’s more of a spiritual tour of India, although there’ll be plenty of time for shopping, sightseeing, and eating the glorious regional food.

Jennifer and I have been to India countless times, and we know these areas well. We’ll stay in beautiful hotels, and we’ll have local guides and drivers.

Itinerary and costings are to come, but please let me know if you’re interested.

bill@gonetours.com

I think this one will fill up fast.

My wife and I are in Sydney at the moment for business meetings, and last night we had dinner with friends.

Wayne and Libby Pashley are amazing people.

Professionally, they are top of their tree.

They are sound designers for motion pictures, and they're not only the best in Australia, they're amongst the best in the world.

What's a sound designer?

Imagine going to a movie in the cinema, and you're watching the pictures but there's no sound. What they do is they create the sound.

The sound you hear in movies is there because of the work of the sound designer. It is one of the most complex crafts in the filmmaking process.

And Wayne and Libby do big movies.

Their credits include:

• The Great Gatsby
• The Lego Movie
• Happy Feet
• Babe

They recently finished working on MAD MAX – FURY ROAD, George Miller's fourth instalment of the iconic franchise. That's a big sound job, as you can imagine.

Oh and they've also done some of my films too…

They are special friends and special people.

Last night Wayne told me an amazing story.

Shortly after Christmas, their cat went missing. They loved their cat. And it had never gone missing before. But they couldn't find it anywhere.

They searched everywhere.

For days they walked through their suburb, calling out the cat's name, knocking on neighbours' doors, printing up posters to put on power poles, phoning the animal shelters and the local council – all to no avail.

They were becoming more and more frantic.

And upset.

Their children would break out into tears at he mention of the cat's name.

Still it remained missing.

Wayne and Libby had a friend staying with them at the time, and so they had to be bright and cheery with their guest, but underneath it all they were grieving.

It was as though they'd lost a member of their family, which I guess they had.

Now, Wayne is not a religious person. He's not a regular church goer, but he does believe in the kind of stuff that Jen and I believe in.

A few days after the cat disappeared, Wayne was dismantling their Christmas tree. He reached up to take the angel off the top of the tree, and as he grabbed it something induced him to say to the angel:

Angel of Mercy, please bring us back our cat.

He said this out aloud to the Christmas decoration.

As he was putting the angel away in it's bag, he heard Libby outside screaming with delight:

WAYNE, GET SOME FOOD! I'VE FOUND THE CAT!

Wayne was stunned.

Absolutely stunned.

He told me, across the dinner table last night, that he heard Libby's voice literally ten seconds after he'd spoken to the angel, just as he was about to put it away.

Okay, that's an amazing story, right?

It's true.

It's what happened.

I told Wayne that what I've learnt so far from those that I've interviewed for my PGS film is that things like that will happen to those that believe, or wish to believe, to validate and encourage that belief.

Like getting the perfect parking space.

Little ticks of encouragement.

Anyway we had a glorious evening together. We stayed late, swapping stories, catching up on stuff, laughing a lot, while the restaurant staff piled chairs up on tables around us.

We didn't want to leave, there was so much to talk about.

And as we walked back to our cars in the dark, and as we hugged and said our goodbyes, I thought about the powerful nature of our friendship.

Of the powerful nature of true friendships.

Of love, really.

It's something very special, and something to be treasured.

(Rick, a work mate, with Jennifer, Libby, Wayne)

(Taken with my iPad camera.)

(Notice the correct amount of headroom)

The book I’m currently writing, Photo Camino, is principally a guide to taking photos on the Camino.

However I am peppering it with a few anecdotes.

Here I post an excerpt of what happens when someone offers to take a photo of me…

I pity anyone who offers to take my photo. They don’t know what they’re getting themselves into. First I instruct them on what to do, which straight up offends them, because of course they know how to take a photo. These people are usually the ones who ask. “Which button do I press?”

I then watch like a hawk as they take the shot, and I know immediately that it’s not going to be any good. They proudly hand me back the camera, kind of like TAH-DAH! and wait for me to check it and tell them what a great shot they took.

So I check it, and of course the shot is completely unacceptable.

I show it to them and explain patiently where they got it wrong – mainly framing and headroom issues, but sometimes they’ve got the focus wrong too. And then I ask them to do it again, which stretches the newly acquired friendship somewhat. So begrudgingly they take the shot again, and again I check it. And again it’s not right. So once again I tell them what’s wrong, and how they can do it better – ignoring their growing sense of enmity towards me, as if it’s MY fault that we have to go through this charade.

So they take another shot – and it’s better but not perfect – and then we take another – and by now I can feel their barely suppressed rage radiating out towards me like heat from a wood-fired stove – and being a pilgrim, I forgive them.

Often it’s focus. They somehow or other get the automatic focus wrong, which to me is incomprehensible, so I put the camera on manual focus and pre-focus for them. I make sure the exposure settings are correct, remind them of the framing and stress NOT TOO MUCH HEADROOM, and then finally when I’m sure that they can’t possible get anything wrong, I allow them to take the shot.

I ask to check it once again, and for a moment I get the feeling they’re about to hurl the camera into my face. But they hand me the camera, their agitation now undisguised, as if they had some place better they needed to be. 

By now the sun is setting, we’re losing light anyway, and the memory card is full. The shot is ok – not great  but ok – so I thank them, using all of my not inconsiderable charm, and watch as they walk quickly away, breaking into a run…

Please – help me out here.

I want to discuss the twelve most iconic shots on the Camino in the book I’m writing – Photo Camino.

Here is my list –

1. The gates or bridge at St. Jean
2. The Virgin on the Route Napoleon
3. The metal statues at Hill of Pardon
4. Burgos Cathedral
5. The winding road
6. The Meseta
7. Lyon Cathedral
8. A yellow arrow shot
9. The Crux de Ferro
10. 100kms to go marker
11. Standing in square in front of Santiago Cathedral
12. Shot with Compostela

Please give me your comments and suggestions –

Better still, give me your top 12 iconic shots…

I’ve been quiet lately, in part because I’ve needed to withdraw and consider what has passed, and what’s ahead.

But also I’ve had my head down writing the Photo Camino book.

I’m now 20,000 words in, and I’m on track to have the text finished by the end of January. I’m thinking the book will be about 50-60,000 words.

It will then require editing and proof reading, and then design work to include various photos and illustrations.

It will be a practical guide to photography on the Camino, covering such topics as what camera to take, how to shoot landscapes, the most iconic images you’ll find along the way, how to avoid too much headroom in a shot 🙂 and so forth.

It will also, I hope, be stamped with my “voice,” and will be peppered with relevant photographic anecdotes.

It will also include a lot of my photography, but only to illustrate certain points that I’m making in the text. It’s not a coffee table photo book – it’s a practical guide. That said, there should be some nice shots in it.

I’m finding it hard to write. (I find all writing hard though…) I’m writing the book for those that don’t have a clue about photography, and yet at times I do have to explain some technicalities. I’m keeping it simple though.

Ultimately, every part of the book links back to the Camino, and the unique challenges and opportunities that a pilgrim / photographer will face.

The book will also touch on the philosophy of using photography to “see” along The Way, and to intimately connect with your surroundings, and those that you meet.

I hope to have it published by March or April, in time for those spring and summer pilgrims who might wish to get some tips before heading off on their journey.

If there are any subjects you think I should include, please let me know.

(billpgsblog@gmail.com)

I’ve settled into a daily routine which I wish to maintain throughout the year, and indeed throughout my life. It’s based on the daily routine at the Parmarth Niketan Ashram, in Rishikesh.

They begin their day at 5am, before sunrise, because from a yoga perspective that’s the most potent time of the day. So I wake up at 4:44am, and by 5am I’m doing my pranayama, then my yoga, then 25-30 minutes of mediation. That takes me up to 7am.

It sets me up beautifully for the day – and if needed, I have a 20 minute nap in the afternoon. I’m usually asleep by 10:30pm, which is how Jen and I saw in the New Year.

Interestingly, I notice that I am now able to do asanas that even a few months ago were impossible because of my bad knee. The yoga is getting in there and doing wonders. I do believe yoga is a magic pill. I’m even thinking of trying a long walk without my knee brace.

So at the moment I’m pretty boring.

There’s a chance that Jennifer and I might be going to Turkey sometime this month, to do some filming for the PGS film. We’re waiting to see how things unfold.

If we’re meant to go, then we’ll go.

In Australia it’s New Year’s Eve.

Soon I will break a three day fast with a glass of champagne.

Hell of a way to break a fast – (only Chinese green tea since Sunday night) – but hey, it is New Year’s Eve after all.

Tomorrow I start A Course in Miracles.

Daily lessons, 365 in all.

Life changing, so they say. And reading through it as I have already, I can believe it.

Jennifer did the full course a couple of years ago – all 365 days – and it forged a major change within her. She still carries with her what she learnt doing the course, and it informs the way she looks at everything.

I’ve tried getting into it in the past, but I found it to be dense and difficult to navigate.
I feel now that I’m ready for it.

Here is the Wikipedia link to it:

A Course in Miracles

The book is large, complex, and a real head-bender.

It was written by two Professors of Medical Psychology from Columbia University – Helen Schucman and William Thetford. They began in 1965, and it took them ten years to write. Professor Schucman said she was transcribing from messages she received from Jesus Christ – although The Course diverges fundamentally from Christianity.

Interestingly, before receiving messages (through symbolic dreams and a “Voice,”) that would later constitute The Course, Professor Schucman described herself as “conservative in theory and atheistic in belief.”

The Course has been described as “Satanic” by some, and others have referred to it as a “New Age Bible.” It is intensely metaphysical.

Here is a link to the book on Amazon, if you’re interested in buying it. You can also pick it up on Kindle for $8.50 –

I begin the course with a level of trepidation, because I know it’s going to be hard going at times. But I feel it’s something I have to do. And I’m now ready for it – whereas before I wasn’t.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

In the meantime, to those of you in our time zone, Happy New Year! And to those of you in the US or elsewhere, same tomorrow!

I know this year is going to be a cracker.

How do I know?

Because it’s written in my stars…

I’ve woken up before dawn here in Mudgee.

The birds woke me.
A cacophony.

It’s Christmas morning here.

I had to think – what does that mean?

It means swapping Christmas presents, it means a big lunch, it means family, it means putting aside all those petty grievances and giving out love.

Or trying to.

In Australia it means heat, blasting sunshine or cyclonic storms, it means the beach, it means the bush, it means seafood and beer and talk of cricket and collapsing in the afternoon from too much of a good thing.

But what else does it mean?

Was a special man born today?

Are the stories true?

I’m not a Christian, but in my own quiet way I’ll take time to celebrate the day as a Holy day. Soon I’ll go downstairs and meditate, and consider the wonder of it all.

I’ve learnt a lot this past twelve months.
I’ve learnt that it’s all very simple, really.

You’ve just got to trust & surrender.
And ignore fear.

And know that what you need is in your heart.

The truth.

Hey – thank you.
All of you.
Thank you for helping me make this an extraordinary year.

You’re amazing, you mob.
Bloody amazing.

Each one of you.

This below is a reprint of an Opinion piece in the New York Times.

At this time of the year I thought it was worth putting up here –

I particularly like this quote: “To be truly alive is to feel one’s ultimate existence within one’s daily existence.”

The Subtle Sensations of Faith

With Hanukkah coming to an end, Christmas days away, and people taking time off work, we are in a season of quickened faith. When you watch people exercise that faith, whether lighting candles or attending Midnight Mass, the first thing you see is how surprising it is. You’d think faith would be a simple holding of belief, or a confidence in things unseen, but, in real life, faith is unpredictable and ever-changing.

It begins, for many people, with an elusive experience of wonder and mystery. The best modern book on belief is “My Bright Abyss” by my Yale colleague, Christian Wiman. In it, he writes, “When I hear people say they have no religious impulse whatsoever … I always want to respond: Really? You have never felt overwhelmed by, and in some way inadequate to, an experience in your life, have never felt something in yourself staking a claim beyond yourself, some wordless mystery straining through word to reach you? Never?”

Most believers seem to have had these magical moments of wonder and clearest consciousness, which suggested a dimension of existence beyond the everyday. Maybe it happened during childbirth, with music, in nature, in love or pain, or during a moment of overwhelming gratitue and exaltation.

These glimmering experiences are not in themselves faith, but they are the seed of faith. As Wiman writes, “Religion is not made of these moments; religion is the means of making these moments part of your life rather than merely radical intrusions so foreign and perhaps even fearsome that you can’t even acknowledge their existence afterward. Religion is what you do with these moments of over-mastery in your life.”

These moments provide an intimation of ethical perfection and merciful love. They arouse a longing within many people to integrate that glimpsed eternal goodness into their practical lives. This longing is faith. It’s not one emotion because it encompasses so many emotions. It’s not one idea because it contains contradictory ideas. It’s a state of motivation, a desire to reunite with that glimpsed moral beauty and incorporate it into everyday living.

It’s a hard process. After the transcendent glimpses, people forget. Their spirits go dry and they doubt anything ever happened. But believers try, as Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel put it, to stay faithful to those events. They assent to some spiritual element they still sense planted in themselves.

The process of faith, of bringing moments of intense inward understanding into the ballyhoo of life, seems to involve a lot of reading and talking — as people try to make sense of who God is and how holiness should be lived out. Even if you tell people you are merely writing a column on faith, they begin recommending books to you by the dozen. Religion may begin with experiences beyond reason, but faith relies on reason.

In his famous fourth footnote in “Halakhic Man,” Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik writes, “The individual who frees himself from the rational principle and who casts off the yoke of objective thought will in the end turn destructive and lay waste the entire created order. Therefore, it is preferable that religion should ally itself with the forces of clear, logical cognition, as uniquely exemplified in the scientific method, even though at times the two might clash with one another.”

Or as Wiman puts it more elegantly: “Faith cannot save you from the claims of reason, except insofar as it preserves and protects that wonderful, terrible time when reason, if only for a moment, lost its claim on you.”

All this discerning and talking leads to the main business of faith: living attentively every day. The faithful are trying to live in ways their creator loves. They are trying to turn moments of spontaneous consciousness into an ethos of strict conscience. They are using effervescent sensations of holiness to inspire concrete habits, moral practices and practical ways of living well.

Marx thought that religion was the opiate of the masses, but Soloveitchik argues that, on the contrary, this business of living out a faith is complex and arduous: “The pangs of searching and groping, the tortures of spiritual crises and exhausting treks of the soul purify and sanctify man, cleanse his thoughts, and purge them of the husks of superficiality and the dross of vulgarity. Out of these torments there emerges a new understanding of the world, a powerful spiritual enthusiasm that shakes the very foundations of man’s existence.”

Insecure believers sometimes cling to a rigid and simplistic faith. But confident believers are willing to face their dry spells, doubts, and evolution. Faith as practiced by such people is change. It is restless, growing. It’s not right and wrong that changes, but their spiritual state and their daily practice. As the longings grow richer, life does, too. As Wiman notes, “To be truly alive is to feel one’s ultimate existence within one’s daily existence.

I’ve trawled through a lot of images to select my favourite 10 shots of the year.

Each picture has a story, of course. I’ll give you a brief rundown of that story.

There are so many other pics that I love that didn’t make this list – but ultimately my choices are idiosyncratic – as you’ll no doubt attest.

So here we go –

I took this shot on a sheep property about 150kms out of Longreach. His name is Keith Saffy, and he’s an aboriginal stockman. One of the best. And an absolute gem of a man. The shot was taken just as the sun was going down – last light. His face shows his life of pain, of strength and stoicism, and ultimately of compassion and dignity. I felt it was a privilege to have met him.

Camera: Fujifilm X-E2; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; focal length: 64mm [35mm equiv] 1/55th – f4 – ISO 1250

This shot was also taken out of Longreach, in Central Queensland. Pieter de Vries was my Director of Photography on the film I was shooting. He wanted me to take a shot of him doing a Ninja style throw of his hat. The wind was howling at about 50km an hour, and I took this shot totally instinctively. The hat was traveling in the wind at about 100mph! I love the shot because of the composition – for me, it’s perfectly balanced, and Pieter’s expression is suitably mischievous. By the way, this shot hasn’t been cropped. It’s the full frame.

Camera: Sony a7r; Lens: Zeiss 35mm; Focal length: 35mm; Exposure: 1/3000th – f8 – ISO 400)

 This shot was taken from the back of a car driving from Bombay airport to the hotel. We were stopped at traffic lights and the boy was begging for money. I love this shot because for me it expresses the joy and exuberance, the colour and energy of India. Perhaps my favourite shot of the year.

Camera: Sony a7s; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm; Focal length: 70mm; Exposure: 1/100th – f5.6 – ISO 2500

This shot was taken at the Mudgee Show earlier this year. It was a game in Sideshow Alley. I love this shot because it’s so surreal. and I love the colours.

Camera: Fujifilm X-E2; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; Focal length: 51mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/100th – f5.6 – ISO 400

This shot was taken out front of the Basilica in Assisi, Italy. It was taken at last light. I love the striations – the bandings on the ground, contrasted with the vertical columns of the archways behind. And I love the posture of the monk, with hands behind, striding out. This was a shot that was quickly taken. I saw the monk approaching, I quickly positioned myself to get the best angle emphasising the background, and I only had a chance to take one shot, so I had to make sure that I got his stride correct. It was a tricky shot.

Camera: Sony a7s; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm; Focal length: 24mm; Exposure: 1/200th – f5.6 – ISO 320

This photo was taken somewhere in the Mojave Desert, in California. It was on a highway that is rarely traveled, and I remember I was a bit anxious because there was a stretch of about 100mls without a town. If we broke down then we’d be in trouble, Hollywood style. To me the shot epitomises all those B-Grade road movies I grew up with.

Camera: Fujfilm X-E2; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; Focal length: 36mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/1400 – f8 – ISO 400

This shot was taken on a freeway in Dallas. I was driving at the time, and took the shot with one hand holding the wheel, the other holding the camera. I’m amazed that it’s as well composed as it is, given that. The shot is about 2-3 stops overexposed, and that’s one of the things I like about it – because for me it represent the Cosmic Rays that inhabit the place. What makes the shot is the red car. Without the red car the shot would be nothing.

Camera: Sony RX100 Mk3; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm [35mm equiv]; Focal length: 24mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/2000th – f3.5 – ISO 1250

This again was taken in Dallas, in downtown. The eye is a sculpture, and a local landmark. The shot for me is surreal – and I like the juxtaposition of white and dark, curves and horizontals. I find it an arresting photo.

Camera: Sony RX100 Mk3; Lens: Zeiss 24-70mm [35mm equiv]; Focal length: 61mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/125 – f8 – ISO 160

This shot was taken while I was walking the Camino Portuguese – just before Easter, the period they call Semana Santa. The shot was taken about 75kms from Santiago de Compostela, in a small town that was preparing for the Semana Santa celebrations. The shot has sinister connotations though because of the visual reference to the Ku Klux Klan.

Camera: Fujifilm X-T1; Lens: Fujinon 18-55mm; Focal length: 27mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/90th – f6.4 – ISO 400

This shot was taken at Rishikesh, a Hindu holy town on the banks of the Ganges in India. I saw the sadhu coming towards me, and I stopped him and positioned him so that he was exactly symmetrical between the sides of the bridge, and then I squatted lower so that I had the sunburst coming just over his head. I made sure that the tin he was holding was in shot. Again this is a shot that wasn’t cropped. What you see is the full frame.

Camera: Sony a7s; Lens: Zeiss: 24-70mm; Focal length: 24mm; Exposure: 1/500th – f5.6 – ISO 160

And here is a shot that I would have included, except that I shot it on December 29th 2013, two days before the start of the year –

This shot was taken late at night in Longreach, Central Queensland. I took several shots, trying to get the composition right – trying to get the Coke machine inside in shot, and yet still maintain the symmetry. It was also a tricky exposure – making sure that the background was darkened, to keep the eye drawn to the inside of the Laundromat. Again this shot wasn’t altered in post production – the cropping and exposure is what I captured on the day – or night.

Camera: Nikon D3200; Lens: Nikkor 17-55 f2.8; Focal length: 25mm [35mm equiv]; Exposure: 1/50th – f2.8 – ISO 1600

Before the end of the year, I will post my ten best shots of the year.

At least, the shots that I like the most.

It will be fun going through them all.

I estimate I’ve taken about 20,000 shots this year, which isn’t much, really.

But I’ve traveled a bit, so there should be some interesting ones to select from.